


the other side of twenty-five

by nqkedbooths



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: (HAPPY BIRTHDAY BBY), Dan's Birthday, Established Relationship, Existential Crisis, Fluff, Implied Smut, Introspection, Light Angst, M/M, Reality, Self-Reflection, like a hell of a lot of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 23:21:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11172219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nqkedbooths/pseuds/nqkedbooths
Summary: On the eleventh day of June, 2017, Dan wakes up on the other side of twenty-five. He no longer feels like a young adult anymore, and he doesn’t know how he feels about it. His youth has flashed before his very eyes, with all the pleasures and pains that came with it: every smile, every tear, every clamour. Is he still young? Is he now moving on with life? Should he be moving on with life?





	the other side of twenty-five

**Author's Note:**

> This was whipped up very very quickly so apologies for any mistakes!
> 
> You can find me on Twitter at [@quietsymphonies](https://twitter.com/quietsymphonies)! Enjoy :)

On the eleventh day of June, 2017, Dan wakes up on the other side of twenty-five.

 

He no longer feels like a young adult anymore, and he doesn’t know how he feels about it. His youth has flashed before his very eyes, with all the pleasures and pains that came with it: every smile, every tear, every clamour. Is he still young? Is he now moving on with life? _Should_ he be moving on with life?

 

He is saved from what feels like an inevitable existential crisis by movement next to him, followed by gentle lips being pressed all over his face.

 

A familiar face appears as he opens his eyes, gazing down at him as he rests his forehead on the younger’s.

 

“Happy birthday, you,” Phil murmurs, before connecting their lips.

 

The kiss is short, but tender. It might have been longer had Phil not started grinning widely halfway through, before resting his head on Dan’s pillow and continuing to watch him, their faces mere inches apart. Dan watches back, unable to stop a small grin from forming on his face despite himself.

 

Phil links their hands together, stroking his thumb over his partner’s knuckles. Content with the moment, Dan settles into his position and closes his eyes. He decides that he won't allow himself to think existentially, at least not right now.

 

He senses movement next to him again and sleepily reopens his eyes. Phil's face is even closer than before, staring at him with even more intensity. He unlinks their hands only to cup the younger's cheek while stroking his cheekbone.

 

He connects their lips again. Dan returns it in the same manner, both giving but neither trying to take or seek for more. There's a time for that, but now is not that time.

 

They’re not doing much, not saying much. Back when they’d first made things official, they might have woken each other up with something more than what is happening right now. Eight years have managed to calm down that initial desperation somewhat - most of it remains of course, what would love be otherwise? - but they have enough trust nowadays that they know neither of them are going anywhere soon. They can enjoy quiet moments like these without worrying that it will be one of their last for whatever reason, without the paranoid part of their minds encouraging an all-or-nothing policy.

 

They’ve matured over the years. They’re comfortable in themselves individually, and what they are together.

 

Any moment next to each other is enough, so they enjoy the peace of this one in silence, satisfied that the other is right there with them.

 

*

 

If there is one thing Dan will be eternally grateful for, it's breakfast in bed.

 

That, and the man who delivers it, he supposes.

 

He's scrolling through the infinity that is his Twitter notifications, thousands and thousands of followers all wishing him a happy birthday. They all make him smile, the more sarcastic or humorous ones encouraging a snort or quiet chuckle out of him, when an ideal sight appears on the threshold to the bedroom: a topless Phil in just pyjama bottoms and glasses, carrying a breakfast tray laden in various edible goods.

 

The elder raises an eyebrow and smirks a little at the look the younger is giving him. "Well?" he asks, raising the tray slightly.

 

"Definitely edible," replies Dan, as Phil settles next to him in bed and moves to start unloading the tray. "The food's not bad either."

 

If Phil had been carrying something in that moment, he may well have dropped it. Luckily he isn't, but the look he gives Dan sends enough of a message anyway. It's an _are you serious_ laced with some amusement.

 

"I'm going to duck-tape your mouth one of these days."

 

"Kinky, save that idea for later."

 

"NO!" Phil reaches over to cover Dan's mouth with his hand, but quickly pulls it away in disgust when Dan licks it.

 

"I've had my tongue in far worse places and I never heard you complaining then," Dan reproaches with a smirk.

 

"I'm leaving, I'm moving in with Janice next door..."

 

"There is no Janice next door," Dan mutters to himself.

 

"...where I won't have to deal with your foul mouth."

 

He moves to get out of bed and Dan mock-pouts, making grabby hands as he whines, "Phiwwwwwww..."

 

Phil looks back at him and fondly rolls his eyes before rolling onto the younger's body in one fluid motion, pinning him to his spot on the bed. They look at each other with bright eyes full of mirth, before Phil whispers, "You're ridiculous," and kisses the other for the hundredth time that morning, the corners of their lips tilting upwards.

 

They break apart and Phil rests his head on Dan's shoulder, both of them wrapping their arms around the other. Phil murmurs, "I suppose I'd miss your warmth, maybe I'll stay," and Dan smacks his arm lightly. He's smiling into the elder's hair, and he can feel the other doing the same into his skin.

 

It's an easy exchange, a comfortable one. It's how they've always been.

 

See, Phil's always been more of a man of action. He's more likely to show affection through a gentle hip-bump, brushing their hands together, a reassuring pat on the shoulder, or at home a random hug in the middle of the hallway or a kiss to the forehead while snuggled up on the sofa, than an _I love you_ or _you mean everything to me_. Those have their time and place for him too, but words are generally more Dan's area of expression.

 

At the end of the day, they both love each other very much and they both make it obvious to the other, so neither feel inclined to complain.

 

After all, who in their right mind would complain when they're about to have a relaxed breakfast in bed with the love of their love?

 

*

 

Truth be told, Dan doesn't want to be in this restaurant.

 

To be fair, the food is excellent and the views of London the floor-to-ceiling windows are providing are nothing to frown on, but honestly he'd be just as happy curled up at home, video game controller in hand, his partner's head resting on the crook of his neck and a blanket covering their intertwined legs.

 

It's too loud, there are too many eyes and too many people in general. At home he and Phil can be themselves, here they can't. They're getting there, but not quite.

 

It's just the two of them, Bryony and Wirrow. A quiet celebration for quiet people, albeit in a bustling location.

 

It doesn't take long for Phil to pick up on his agitation. He's aware of the way he stares as if he's looking at something miles away, doesn't offer as much to the conversation as he might normally, keeps his tapping his fingers on the slick wooden table.

 

He doesn't give him a reassuring side-hug or a kiss on his temple as he might at home, but he does nudge him with his elbow and grasp his hand to stop the tapping. Dan's mind returns to reality and he looks at Phil, whose face is smiling softly but asking the silent question of _are you okay?_

 

Dan squeezes his hand in response. The handholding might once have been something they'd never dare to do, but at this point neither of them can find it in them to care.

 

It's _his_ night, Dan tells himself. He should be celebrating without having to worry about lurking eyes or judgement.

 

So that is what he does, with Phil there to ground him.

 

*

 

If the post-birthday-dinner sex was great (which fucking hell, it was, it _so_ was), the cuddles afterwards are better.

 

Dan is laying half on top of the elder in bed, legs too tangled for them to be able to move at all, but one could suppose that’s the idea.

 

Phil is playing with Dan’s hair idly, finding any excuse for closeness, while the latter rests his head on the former’s chest, staring at nowhere in particular.

 

They’re both tired, but happy. Very happy.

 

Well, except for the nagging voice in Dan’s head, reminding him that _holy shit he’s twenty-six now_.

 

“Dan?"

 

Dan turns his head to look up at his partner properly, his eyes being met with the sight of a knit brow and concerned eyes.

 

"What's on your mind?"

 

It's never _are you okay?_ or _you doing alright?_ with Phil. He's known Dan long enough to know that Dan always has an active mind, and that not all of the thoughts floating around in there will be positive. Asking _are you okay?_ is a tad counterproductive.

 

He grunts in response. It’s supposed to sound noncommittal, but instead comes out a little flat. Much like how he’s feeling.

 

Of course, Phil picks up on it and so pulls him closer, gathering him in his arms and pulling him on top so that he can properly hug him.

 

"I'm not getting any younger," Dan finally relents.

 

"Well, no. No one gets younger over time."

 

"I know, but... I feel like an old man at just twenty-six years old."

 

"I mean, yes, you are twenty-six, but it's not like a year has passed since yesterday, since you were last twenty-five."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"In essence, nothing has changed. We're both still here. We still have each other, our home, our careers, our wishes. It's still the same."

 

It’s then that he understands.

 

He’s an adult, but he has been for years. Nothing has changed, he’s just a day over twenty-five.

 

There is no “other side”, there’s just another day. And a day after that. And a year after that. And a lifetime after that.

 

Nothing has changed.

 

He is still alive. He still has Phil right next to him, metaphorically and literally. They are still a unit.

 

He may in some ways be on the other side of twenty-five, but it’s still just another day. Another day of being with the love of his life, eating with him, going out with him, fooling around with him.

 

There is time for change in the future, but in this moment, the two of them intertwined and listening to each other breathing while gently fiddling with each other’s hair, Dan is content.

 

"And people say I'm the philosophical one out of us."

 

Phil chuckles, and Dan can feel the vibrations from his chest.

 

"We both can have our moments, good and bad, but we're both still here and we both still have each other."

 

Nothing has changed, because nothing _needs_ to change.

 

He has everything he needs and more, after all. They both do.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback, whether in the form of kudos or comments, is appreciated! Have a good day :)


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